Dead Love
by Faba
Summary: She kissed him again, missing the warmth and passion that his kisses normally held. She missed the way he would press his lips back, against hers. She pulled away, if only he had listened to her, if only he had understood the danger they were both in.


**Disclaimer: No, I don't own this…**

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this, like it, hate it or love it, just review. **

She circled her fingers over his soft skin, kissed his frozen lips, smoothed his dark hair out of his face, and brushed his eyelids closed. She didn't not want to stare into the sightless gaze, as it haunted her so. He did not stir as she touched him delicately, he did not awake, and he did not breathe. His body only lay there, as still as stone, making her heart twist in pain. She curled her body around him, and as she lay there she could almost imagine him asleep, as if it was just another happy night, when they were still together.

A single burning tear, trickled out of her eye, but she did not wipe it. Instead she let it fall onto his face, and for a moment, hope swelled up in her heart, hope that he would suddenly sit up, wipe off the tear and kiss her.

He didn't.

Elphaba scowled and let more tears fall, not wanted to waste precious thoughts on hoping any longer. She didn't want to hope any longer, she didn't want to love any longer. She turned back to Fiyero and took her tear, rubbing it across his lips, wanting him to taste her despair, wherever his soul may be, as it seems he had one.

Turning away once more, she wiped her finger across her dress, taking the burn away, and stared at the floor, that was now littered with drying blood. She brushed her hand across the blood, and lifted it again, taking some of the blood with her. She rubbed the blood between her fingers, loathing the way it had begun to mass together in a sticky solution, as blood did when exposed to the air for too long.

His blood, it was his blood. She grabbed him by the waist and pulled him into her lap, becoming achingly familiar with the lack of warmth. His blood soaked her wrists and hands, a brilliant red against her green skin.

She kissed him again, missing the warmth and passion that his kisses normally held. She missed the way he would press his lips back, against hers. She pulled away, if only he had listened to her, if only he had understood the danger they were both in, he might be here at this moment, holding her.

Elphaba staggered up, and tore herself away from the corpse. She forced herself not to look back, while she stumbled into the stairwell. Thoughts surged into her brain while she ungracefully went down the stairs, one step at a time. She could not believed what had just happened, and this, is why what she had thought before to be unreal, made her to believe it was, for nothing seemed as unreal as this. Nothing seemed as wrong as this.

Elphaba felt more tears come to her eyes, while she raced through the snow. A few times she tripped over buried rocks, but she kept on moving, pushing herself to the limit. She did her best to ignore the freezing petals that flew through the air, but they swerved and curved through the sky, and they seemed as if they wanted to get her, attack her.

She kept on through the flurry and kept her head high, despite the circumstances. Reality seemed to melt away from her, like butter on a biscuit. When she pushed someone aside, it was as if she was pushing air. When she coughed, it was as if she had sighed happily. When she walked, it was as if she was spiriting on clouds, with her lover beside her, nothing was real.

Soon, the storm picked up, and everyone left the streets, but not Elphaba she barely noticed it. She just coved herself with her cloak, hiding everything but her eyes, which scanned ahead of her like radars, and walked. Her breath was ragged from breathing heavily, trying to inhale the thick and freezing air and her limbs ached from traveling so far, but she needed to get there, she needed this desperately, no matter what the cost. No matter how she had had to travel.

Elphaba felt frozen and stiff, while she climbed up the frozen pathway steadily. She knew this may not be the best place for a sinner like herself, but she needed help, even though a soul she may not have. So, with a heavy, bleeding heart she pulled an emerald hand out into the still air, and rapped it on the oaken door. Soon, afterward doing so, she pulled it back into the fold of her cloak once more and waited silently, setting herself in a corner of the porch.

Soon, a young woman opened the door and stared out, looking slightly annoyed. But when she caught sight of Elphaba, her face softened and her eyes, they seemed to betray fear and curiosity.

"My dear, what on earth happened to you?" she asked kindly, kneeling down next to the green creature, and setting her kind gaze upon the bloodied hands.

"Reality," Elphaba murmured distantly, her eyes fixated ahead. "It was cruel reality."

The novice looked behind her, wondering what the woman could be staring at. But soon she turned her head back and smiled kindly. "What is your name, dear?" she asked, fearing the creature might suddenly snap at her in rage, or run away into the evening.

Elphaba turned her gaze up on her in surprise. Should she reveal her real name? Or should she conceal herself and use a fake name? She could always use the name Fae, but that would just kill her on the inside every time someone called on her. No, she couldn't use that one. Damn, she didn't even know how long she was to stay here, granted that she be let inside, period. So, to give herself more time to think she mumbled slightly, which caused her to go into a great coughing fit.

The novice patted her back, to help her get over it, and then tilted Elphaba's head up once more. "What was that?"

Elphaba looked at her straight into the eyes, unblinking. Her eyes looked as hollow as death, and swam with memories pasts, that were known to her alone. "Aelphaba, call me Aelphaba."


End file.
